Eastern European Literature
I sat at the bar of the Zwiebelfisch in Berlin together with David Bell, the renowned Kant scholar; it happened to be one of his regular haunts and it was the only spot where we could have an undisturbed meeting whenever he was in Berlin.
God created drugs with an addendum, a few minutes after midnight on Saturday night—in other words, on Sunday, when he wasn’t supposed to be doing anything anymore, for the work of creation had reached its end. Thus it might be said that God’s creation of narcotics was a violation of both law and order.
“The island’s not that big,” says Branko’s wife Djurdjica as she fills his cup with thick, strong coffee.
There’s a content to forgetting, just as there’s a content to remembering.
No more literary navel-gazing, Americans! Aleksandar Hemon implores in his introduction to Best European Fiction 2010.
In his introduction to Arkadii Dragomoshchenko’s new book Chinese Sun, Jacob Edmonds posits the book’s most pressing question: Can something be central if it is marginal and arbitrary?
Tadeusz Konwicki is a Polish writer of novels, essays, and screenplays. He must be in his seventies by now. He was briefly published in America in the mid-’70s when the writings of Eastern European dissidents like Kundera initially caught the attention of American intellectuals.